


Beautiful name

by English is my death (Lena013)



Category: One Piece
Genre: Ace didn't recognize Sabo's face, Ace doesn't know he fucked his brother, Amnesia, Drama, Family Bonding, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Name Changes, Pseudo-Incest, Reunification, Sabo doesn't know who his brother is and he doesn't have a problem with who to fuck, Sabo doesn't remember his name, Sabo is Jiyu, Sabo's name is " freedom"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:00:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26420788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lena013/pseuds/English%20is%20my%20death
Summary: The boy in front of him had the most cheeky smile he'd seen in a decade, blue eyes that reminded him of the sky over three cups of sake, the echo of a rough, ringing laugh, and someone else's name.______________AU: Sabo got a different name for amnesia.Версия на русском.
Relationships: Portgas D. Ace/Sabo
Comments: 1
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ja. 自由 [Jiyū] - "Jiyu" - freedom.  
> English is not my native language, please understand and forgive me.

The boy in front of him had the most cheeky smile he'd seen in a decade, blue eyes that reminded him of the sky over three cups of sake, the echo of a rough, ringing laugh, and someone else's name. The boy in front of him had blond hair, dimples, and a scar _(that never marred, never marred his appearance-giving)_ him a memorable charm. The boy in front of him had a dark top hat on his head, a restless appetite with absent table manners, and sharp joking comments for any of his interlocutors.

Ace didn't know what he was thinking, what he was hoping for, when he asked: 

"What's your name?"

His smiled at him in a light, familiar, irritatingly friendly way; thin fingers in a black glove moved in a friendly way, waving at him.

"Jiyu," say him, and something thin, fragile, _hopeful_ cracks with the smooth rhythm of the voice, the bright-living-sky eyes, the scar-never-spoiling-proving-that-is-alive, and shatters. Ace feels something slick and heavy stuck in his throat, but he presses it down, noticing after one blink of his light lashes that he's worried.

"Beautiful name," Ace replies, stretching his lips into a smile. The name is wonderful, magnificent, really beautiful.

_Freedom._

Jiyu smiles again, even brighter, even more infectious, even more painful for someone else's heart.

"Oh, thank you."

Jiyu is friendly, helpful, and moderately chatty. He talks a lot (not as much as Luffy, of course, because no one could talk much how Luffy), twirls a hand with a fork in his relaxed fingers, goes from talking about food to the weather, navigation, and world news. The girl on his right nudges Jiyu's shoulder, and Jiyu snorts and squints, and the girl rolls her eyes and gets angry until Deuce pulls Them back into the conversation. God save Deuce, because Ace doesn't think he can drop a single coherent sentence without a sore chest and a weak voice that's on the verge of a whisper.

Ace looks, soaks, blinks — and sees Sabo. Alive, laughing, with wavy hair, together short, happy and bright, replacing the sun on this snowy island. Ace is seventeen, and he finds himself wondering what Sabo would look like now: if he had grown that broken tooth or had a root tooth knocked out; if the Prim style of clothing or the top hat with long coats in the middle of a hot summer would have changed forever; if his chin, face shape, eye color, or maybe dimples would have disappeared; _if he would have become stronger, happier, more free?_ Ace thinks about it and instead of imagine it, memorizes the face opposite, from the early wrinkles between the eyebrows to the tangled strands of bangs.

Jiyu catches his thousand and one looks, smiles, maybe a little more flirtatious, a little more playful, and winks-then Ace reminds me again that it's not Sabo, forcing a polite smile. Jiyu jokes and leans closer, drinks something stronger than the standard for their age, and doesn't think much about words with compliments. Jiyu's cheeks and nose turn red, which Ace finds endearing, feeling intoxicated without a drop of alcohol in his blood.

"Hey, pretty boy, want some privacy?", the words are good, clear for someone drunk and Ace nods either to himself or to Deuce's questioning look and the surprised red-haired girl.

Ace finds himself half-thinking between the door of someone else's room and a cheap bed with springs resting on his back. Ace doesn't think straight as he digs his fingers under his raincoat, vest, shirt, bandages; black, blue, turquoise, white and red are the colors of his childhood, garbage city, and the first person who needed his. Ace breathes other people's sighs, moans, and scars-scars-scars; remembers them, builds lines and stories, hiding the fragments of dreams and hopes — _because in his life there are no miracles._

 _In his life, dead brothers do not rise from the graves of the past and impossible Paradise._  
  
Ace thinks that Jiyu is wonderful, so much so that he forgot why and who he came to the snowy winter island for.  
  
And his name was the best, and the smell of salt and gunpowder permeated every blue-black thread, and his hair was nice and soft _(just like he remembers; just like Sabo's)_ and his hands were thin and cold, but strong and confident. And Ace feels like he's under someone else's spell, and Ace the urge to let alien name slip out of his mouth, and Ace lets himself be led around the rooftops and streets, keeping up with a very-very-brisk boy, when someone snitched on them to the Marines, and their teams are waiting on different sides of the island.

Jiyu said he was fifteen, two or one and a half years younger than Ace - he hated himself for another painful stab of broken hope. Jiyu laughs without malice or mockery as Ace grabs him, catches up with him, and calls him in between heavy sighs to join his pirate crew. Jiyu said that he wasn't-quite-a-pirate and "no, I can't tell you who I am, pretty boy", but he said the main thing, with a soft tenderness in his voice:

"I'm free," and in fact, that's all Ace ever wanted to hear in seven years.

Ace watches as not-Sabo walks away, as his heart squeezes longer than it should, as _the freest person turns to him, smiles and laughs, before disappearing into the streets, crowds and snow_ — and he fights happiness half with grief.

_Yes, Sabo could be truly free._


	2. Chapter 2

While reading the newspaper, the chief of staff of the revolutionaries, Jiyu, _dies_ ; while reading the newspaper, a boy of ten years old remembers his brothers, a forest with ancient trees, the taste of sake and garbage mountains; while reading the newspaper, Sabo returns to _wish_ die.

The name remains a jeer, a mockery of himself, of how dozens of friends and loved ones call it him, how hundreds consider him a symbol, an Apostle of their mission, their plan, _their freedom_. And Jiyu doesn't tell them that. He doesn't talk about his name — he talks about his brothers, childhood, warmth, and crocodile meat.

And sinking.

After days, weeks of hatred, self-destruction, and grief, Sabo stands up, dusts the mythical dust from his cloak, and, ignoring the trembling of his hands, moves on. In rare dreams, Ace meets him once every three days, with freckles, anger, and a snort: just as he remembers it. And maybe after a month or two, memory catches up with his mind, catches up with his consciousness, and he remembers another Ace: not an adult, still a young man, in a yellow shirt unbuttoned, a bright orange hat, and a denim jacket that the first mate made him wear for decency. Sabo remembers a winter island in the middle of Paradise, the grumbling of Koala, a warm sake running down his throat, and a sad, tender smile. Sabo remembers the gray eyes without the anger of his childhood; he remembers the silence of others, the taste of "his" name on other people's lips and the soft, hesitant laughter tangled in his blond hair; he remembers the freckles, so many freckles on his face, neck, collarbones, shoulders, chest, back — and his strong, inexplicable urge to count them, to run his lips over each one, causing the other to laugh or moan; he remembers the touches, the bites, the scratches, the apologies, and the hot-hot body in the icy room; remembers how he smiled at him, with joy and sadness, how he wanted to say things he couldn't say, how he saw him as someone else, someone he didn't think he was — and _Jiyu_ could take it quite well.

 _Sabo_ remembers that. And more, again, three months later, it falls. He can't _(Ace tastes like strong sake and strong fire),_ can't _(Ace looks bottom-up, feeling his pulse and smiling drunkenly-drunkenly, as if at a miracle he doesn't deserve),_ can't _(Ace allows everything, giving such tenderness that it's scary),_ can't… _Ace asks to go with him **and he refuses**._

Sabo won't be forgive himself.

Never.

Koala collects its fragments, along with Nico Robin, a very smart woman who can get into anyone's soul. Or maybe it's because out of the corner of his mind, Sabo remembers that this woman knows his second brother? He's not sure.

Sabo sleeps every other time every and eats two less meals a day than he should. The head hangs duty to their position, before the Dragon, before the _name_ ; in the mind hope, fueling the movement, the desire to find Luffy to protect him, preparing to take a punch in the face from it, because it deserved; at the head is adjacent between the dream and reality alive-alive Ace of seventeen, with sadness and happiness on the face, with a smile and bright eyes, with love and in half desperation — _Sabo would give my whole life to go back to that moment._

Sabo goes through time, through the years, remaining a man unworthy of his name, holding on to so necessary-unnecessary memories, continuing to forget. The further he gets, the more he realizes that the brightness of his memory is fading again, that the image of Ace is lost between "Jiyu" and "Sabo", that it makes his head ache and brings tears to his eyes.

But he goes clinging to the future, to _freedom_ , to his little brother, and to _Ace's_ Fruit.

Sabo understands that everything falls into place when he hears someone else's long-ago, blasphemous, frightening:

" **Sabo!** ", from Luffy, who clings to him with his claws, and he shudders, but does not fall. Luffy repeats and repeats his name, and Sabo really remembers; really breathes more often than he should and rubs his eyes, clinging to his younger brother no less tightly; really remembering that his name is _Sabo_.

Just Sabo. Brother of Ace and Luffy. No more, no less.

_And with a disgusting taste in his mouth and fire in his veins, he feels for the first time in two years — **right.**_


End file.
